


Melt

by Ozma



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ascian, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-12-15 21:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozma/pseuds/Ozma
Summary: With a gentle smile, the Emissary dismisses worry, his soothing demeanor a result of distant, objective analysis.Elidibus is cold.How fortuitous, then, that the fourteenth convocation member knows her way around difficult individuals.Elidibus/WoL chronological one-shot and drabble collection, elaborating on their growing relationship, long before the Final Days. Ficlets are of varying lengths and topics, with some lore analysis.





	1. Cold

In a dark, quiet city on a distant sea’s shores, on business that can barely be called official, you meet him alone for the first time.

"Is aught amiss?" Elidibus asks as he falls into stride at your side, disrupting a muse that is far more brood than you are like to admit.

Flying low, fluttering from tree to tree, a songbird trills. So late into the season, its call will remain unanswered until the next cycle, as futile a journey as yours to forest's frontier.

Hythlodaeus will be disappointed, but you'll not find any 'relics of legendary material' no matter how deeply you delve, not with the thoroughness of Anyder's scholars.

Pleasant and equally shallow, you return Elidibus' soft, unknowable smile.

"A minor setback."

Any strain tightening his features from your evasion is impossible to discern, though he certainly cannot be pleased.

You'd not known of Elidibus' arrival, either.

Smooth and unflappable, the Emissary lives up to his name, even amongst colleagues. "The council has proven unyielding. With both of us meddling in the region, they fear Amaurot oversteps its bounds."

Any budding warmth falters, blown out in the breeze that is Elidibus; _when are you leaving? _with the Emissary's constant evasions, 'tis all but direct. 

"I'm certain you'll make them see sense with time."

You'll be out of his way soon enough, after completing the request keeping you from home, but Elidibus needs not know it. You'll protect Amaurot in your own ways, as is both wont and duty.

White and black circle the park in an unreadable silence that can only just be described as companionable. To any onlookers, you are closer than most: equals who need no more than a few words, sharing verbally only what is necessary, intimately aware of the land as seasons swirl in your wake.

An ideal citizen;

A model for all to aspire to.

Such an onlooker would be mistaken.

Elidibus is cold.

Subtly keeping distance from the Emissary, as one might unknowingly avoid a cracked window on a chill night, it is only when he falls back two full paces that you notice his absence.

With a half turn, you motion questioningly. "Is there a problem?"

A mere formality; Elidibus is unlike to look to you for assistance.

Elidibus is unlike to look to _anyone_ for assistance.

"Forgive me my boldness." You cross your arms over your chest at his growing smile. "I had simply thought to observe."

You blink; doubtless, your mask does little to conceal growing surprise - nor the undercurrent of frustration.

"In duty severe, in public cold - long have I pondered the truth of your nature." _Cold. . .?_ Elidibus dismisses your assignment in the frontier and dares wonder why _you_ are cold? “Similar though our roles might be, our duties differ such that we’ve few opportunities for interaction.”

His smile does not falter, unreadable even while easily admitting prolonged, curious observations.

You’ve no time for these games, not if Elidibus wishes you to return home in a timely manner, and yet –

"Forgive me, mayhaps I was mistaken."

There’s something different about the softness in his expression, something impossible to place. Elidibus seems truly apologetic – for his behavior, at least, if not his demands.

_Oh_, very well.

“I am not so challenging to understand.” As his equal, you understand the necessity of his request – and the importance of his presence. “I will be gone for some days. Upon my return, I trust matters will be settled with the council?”

“That is sufficient. My thanks.” He murmurs your title with due respect, any cracks sealed once more.

Aye, he _was_ mistaken. 

Elidibus is far more difficult than you are.


	2. Intrusion

Not long after the council's letter of acquiescence arrives does misty drizzle turn to heavy droplets, rain's patter against windows sending the locals scurrying indoors to see to their affairs.

But Elidibus is no local.

The guest house's lighting flickers higher as storm's shroud blots out the day's remaining light. A simple dwelling, not intended to support more a single family, is all such a small town affords its visitors; were Elidibus its sole occupant, he would have no qualms, but necessity demands he share his abode with a distant, if absent, associate.

The organized clutter of a seasoned traveler reveals her intent to return: a satchel with ingredients for supper remains on the counter; the thin layer of dust around the recorder evidences its recent use and beside it sits a small, closed notepad; soaps and toiletries remain in the bath; an overlarge pillow rests on e'er so slightly crumpled sheets in the room nearest the entrance.

But his colleague is neither here nor there; if fortune continues to favor him, Elidibus will return to Amaurot without encountering her again and his earlier blunder will be forgotten.

Elidibus slides the back door open, wind blowing back his hood and robes. Allowing his hood to fall, he removes his mask and places it on a side table before stepping into the simple garden's privacy.

With no muting walls, the tempest's billows mute all but the loudest disruptions, large droplets blown nigh horizontally until dousing even the occupant residing safely under the eaves.

As it should be.

The scent of rich soil and sour e'ergreen from the nearby forest mix, evidence enough of the seasonal turn, nature's laws upheld in balance and ultimate fulfillment of his duty.

Dripping bangs cling to his face, though he makes no attempt to right them; when he returns, he'll not have the opportunity to indulge in -

"Emissary. . .?"

Her intrusive voice pierces even the wind, sending his heart leaping.

Clenching his fists does little to moderate rapid breaths, but long-held neutrality provides some feigned semblance of control as Elidibus turns, facing a woman who is all but a stranger.

The rain has necessitated her boots be dispelled and the lower section of her robes are unpleasantly soaked and held slightly aloft**.** Smudges of soil and mud sporadically coat her attire, grit clinging to the sides of her nails and the flesh of her neck. 

She was not expecting him.

Nor he her. The raindrops turn cold against his cheeks; his robes cling heavily, doused even through their enchantments, his hair wind tussled, his features exposed -

Such immodest appearance is not befitting the title 'Emissary.'

Elidibus averts his gaze, respectfully meeting the familiarity of her mask instead of -

Her eyes are wide and unblinking; every line of her features is visible, each strand of hair, her exhaustion emphasized by the blooming deep red coloring her cheeks.

The analysis lasts no more than an instant, one far too long, and Elidibus regains his composure quickly. 

"My apologies." Stepping into the hall, near enough that his senses are nigh overwhelmed by the refreshing forest's scent introduced by proximity to his flustered companion, Elidibus slides the door closed behind him. Lifting his mask from the side table, he moves to pass her so that they might both have privacy.

But. . .

Let it not be said that Elidibus allows opportunity to pass him by.

"Welcome home."

The bristle in her shoulders as he pushes past is worth any momentary awkwardness.

He has misjudged her indeed.


	3. Premonition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An immense thank you to Zahira who helped me struggle through this chapter.

Through crisp air you roam, guided by neither intent nor purpose, indulging in the scent of e'ergreen and engendered garden alike; bitter and sweet, though singularly pleasant, the park's brisk breeze churns the mixture into a familiar, yet indistinguishable scent of simple _nature._

You'd have it no other way.

Surrounding the path are a myriad of new blossoms and fresh blooms, the flowers' silken petals beading droplets of rain from the storm; distinct and vibrant, even in the smallest town, uniquely designed gardens sharply contrast with the unbroken shades of green and brown that accompany trips into the forest or ruins.

Yet even amongst the rainbow, it draws your eye. After the previous night's stilted supper, you'd hoped to avoid reminders of your mutual mishap, and yet -

How perfectly it matches the Emissary's hair.

Your jaw sets. Elidibus has no one to blame but himself for the affair, making such a public display.

\- Not that he was any wiser to the hour of your return.

\- Not that you'd done any differently before his arrival.

Even now memory of the improprieties refuses to grant you peace and, if such images persist, you'll inevitably return to the events when he next takes the floor. But, if all continues to progress smoothly, by this time on the morrow, he'll be in Amaurot and this nonsense will be in the past, ne'er to be mentioned agai-

"There you are." _His_ soft, pleasant tone interrupts your musing, setting your shoulders tense and disrupting the morning's calm.

Settling into the stern neutrality of colleagues, you greet the approaching visitor**. **The professional formality within the proceeding exchange of pleasantries and greetings seems terribly artificial after your encounter, and Elidibus seems to recognize it as well, hastily refocusing discussion to the business at hand.

"There was a call for you."

A fact not terribly surprising, you'd been communicating with Hythlodaeus since -

Your heart skips a beat.

Hythlodaeus called _you_ and spoke with _Elidibus_.

\- and the Emissary continues, ignorant of dread's growing gnaw.

"The Architect wishes to know the status of his request. He was quite worried."

"Hythlodaeus?" Panic rises from stillness and it takes all manner of control for the words to not squeak out, shrill as a bird's song.

"You are on a first-name basis with the Architect?" Elidibus shows no signs of surprise at the revelation, but so tightly does he control his reactions that whether 'tis the truth remains impossible to ascertain. "You needn't worry. He seemed to be in a fine mood, though he expressed surprise that were boarding together."

Oh, his lips _definitely _twitch.

"That's exactly why I fear." When you return, you'll inevitably be bombarded with all manner of questions about your situation with Elidibus - the answers to which you've no desire to share. "We are old friends."

Hythlodaeus will learn the truth of matters. He always does.

Mercifully, Elidibus remains ignorant to the premonition spreading ice through your veins.

"And with Emet-Selch as well. . ." He muses aloud - surely intentionally. A man like Elidibus does not let slip such considerations by chance. "He bids you return with your artefact -" Elidibus frowns; he had certainly been curious about the object at supper, sneaking subtle, sideways glances in its direction, but you'd sooner hold tight to what small leverage remains over the Emissary. "Though he is no position to make such demands."

You choose to ignore Elidibus’ latter remark.

"I believe Hythlodaeus has learned of something far more fascinating than what's been found in the ruins." With a sigh, you look to the sky, intolerably blue with the crisp, clear morning. "Apologies for the inconvenience, I should have instructed him to contact me privately."

A simple conclusion to what might have been a far more complicated meeting, Elidibus' arrival mends the shaky foundation of your relationship. With eagerness, you accept his offered olive branch and amicably nod, returning your attentions to the trail.

Before making it e'en a pace, he falls in beside you.

"Might I join you?" 

_No_. Hades might say it, but you'll not. You've a tact your friends lack and, admittedly, there is something to be said of Elidibus' recent respectful behavior.

"I do not object, but I cannot promise you'll enjoy yourself."

"I'll be the judge of that." 

He might well have returned to the guest house for all the attention you pay to him as you continue your stroll, but Elidibus does not seem offended. A sideways glance reveals neither interest nor disinterest; Elidibus but distantly observes his surroundings, revealing naught of the complexities coursing his thoughts.

Observes _you_.

Would that he simply_ ask_.

At the corner of your sight, a floral rainbow draws your attention. In Amaurot, the colors and types found in gardens and parks are carefully chosen and controlled; elegant and orderly, there is comfort in such uniformity and beauty in the arrangements of small and large flora. But the overseer of this park - if there is one - has forsaken that approach, choosing instead to bunch the patches by type, resulting in a passage lined by an explosive array of color.

From patch to patch you travel, picking a favorite color in each, musing on which Hades and Hythlodaeus would enjoy were they present - not that Hades would admit it - and -

The rapid patter of feet rushes at you and you've no more than an instant to steady yourself as a small, striped creation bounds into your legs, hopping up and down on its hind feet, pleading for your attention.

. . .And just as expected, its eager co-creators follow in its wake.

"Argos." You kneel with a smile, running your hands over said pet: a strange, friendly beast that cannot seem to decide if 'tis a cat, dog, or pony. The young visitors shuffle their feet and you return their creation with a firm scolding. "You must train him, lest he find trouble. I'll not be held accountable for a naughty pet's actions!" The shamed children giggle, but nod. "Promise?"

"Promise!"

With a wave, you dismiss them, smile on your lips against your will.

"You are acquainted with those children?" For a moment, you'd forgotten Elidibus' presence entirely.

"Hardly. I simply gave them a lesson, though taming the wandering mind of a child during creation remains outside my reach.”

Leaving the Emissary to wonder, you continue into the copse surrounding a central pond in silence, spirits lifted.

"So you walk often." It does not take long for Elidibus to break the monotony of birdcall and footfall. His is not a question.

"The chains of office are not suitable for one such as myself." You'd go half mad were you confined like Elidibus’ role demands of him.

"And yet you accepted your title."

"So I did."

He seems disinterested in teasing and, by the loosening in his shoulders and the way his gaze roams the canopy, at last Elidibus seems to take pleasure in the walk for its own sake, having since discarded ulterior motives.

This is, perhaps, as relaxed as one such as the Emissary gets.

"Do you often run errands for the Architect?” Focus stalls your footfall and it takes no more than a pace for Elidibus to turn, his mysterious smile revealing his awareness of your observation – no different than his on your first meeting in the frontier.

"Are you always so persistent?" How easily you fall into familiar patterns of banter.

"I do not recall asking before, but if you'd prefer me leave. . ." Loath to admit, you’d sooner deny him. It has been far too long since you've simply enjoyed informal walks with a companion. For one of your experience, outings are always accompanied by business, not simple, curious discussion.

As is oft the case, this is all Hythlodaeus’ fault.

"My duties oft leave me stifled and Anyder’s discovery in the ruins seemed the perfect opportunity to send me out and about. Hythlodaeus knows me too well.” Attending what is little more than a glorified vacation, you disrupt Elidibus’ duty in the process. "And what of you? Do you often analyze colleagues while pretending to enjoy their company?”

"Emet-Selch’s abrasion doesn’t suit you. I’ve no need to pretend." The Emissary smiles, dancing around your condemnation, revealing naught of his thoughts.

Tease though he might, Elidibus proves an impenetrable wall, asking much and providing little in return, all the while disarming effortlessly.

He is a curiosity, but one you cannot yet afford to unravel.

The rest of your walk passes in comfortable silence; absent teasing and observation, Elidibus seems serene and nigh untouchable, the star itself unable to break carefully crafted walls.

"Thank you for granting me this indulgence." He smiles again, that same peaceful, passive smile that reveals nothing, one you’ve taken to understanding is undeniably_ Elidibus_, as you reach your shared abode.

“’twas nothing.”

“Perhaps when we return to Amaurot I’ll prove the truth of my words.”

“Pardon-?” He can’t mean -

Before you might question him further, Elidibus returns to his small private chamber, the future promising far more questions than answers.


End file.
